


Team Effort (Go Nine-Nine)

by notlovenotalways



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: A Whole New World Challenge, AU, F/M, Low key Daisy/Hunter, More than 5K Challenge, The FitzSimmons Network, and I mean really low key like secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlovenotalways/pseuds/notlovenotalways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detectives Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons are two top performers for the New York Police Department, Brooklyn Precinct 99. They are super competitive, super talented, and super British. When a series of bomb threats plague the city, it's up to Fitz and Simmons to put aside their differences and stop the mysterious terrorist group known only as "HYDRA." If only they could see what was happening right in front of their faces....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Effort (Go Nine-Nine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fitzsimmonsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzsimmonsy/gifts).



> This was written for the lovely Maggie (Fitzsimmonsy) for the Fitzsimmons Network "A Whole New World" 5K+ Alternate Universe Challenge. Maggie wanted a crossover between Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Brooklyn Nine Nine. I had never seen an episode of B99 so this was the best homework assignment I've ever had! Maggie, thanks for all that you do for the fandom and THANK YOU for introducing me to one of the funniest shows on TV! 
> 
> For the purpose of this story, Hunter (modeled off Detective Charles Boyle from Brooklyn Nine Nine) is actually American, because I thought having three British officers in the same precinct in Brooklyn would have been a little far fetched.
> 
> Hope you can spot the Easter Eggs for both AOS and B99! FLOORGASM is also the name of Gina Linetti's dance troupe in the show, so all credit goes to Michael Schur and crew for that one. Hope you enjoy!

**_September 29 – Underneath Canal Street MTA Station, Manhattan, New York_ **

“I knew this was a bad idea. This happened because I was late today.”

“Simmons,” Fitz shook his head, reaching over in the darkness and grabbing her wet hand. He sensed the change in her voice and realized a classic Jemma Simmons rant was coming on quickly.

She took a deep breath.

“No, don’t do that. This is my fault. If there hadn’t been a line at the bank, and I hadn’t been five minutes late, I wouldn’t have been picked for this case and I would have been helping you work on YOUR backlogged files and we could have stayed behind and we would have been safe and we wouldn’t have ended up here in this tunnel under the Hudson River with a bomb somewhere and a charge ready to blow and send both of us into the next century.” She dropped his hand quickly and started pacing around the darkened room.

“You are overreacting, Jemma. This is just your anxiety.” Fitz said, sighing and leaning his head against the cold stone wall. “We are here because there’s some madman on the loose who wants to flood the subways.”

She walked back towards him, sliding down the wall beside him and putting her face in her hands. He tentatively put his arm around her shoulders.

“Simmons, it’s going to be okay. Coulson’s going to figure this out. You know he, May, and Mack have the best people on getting us out of here.”

She sniffled. “But I _am_ their best person!”

Fitz removed his arm from her shoulder and moved a few inches away from her. “That hurts, Simmons. Just see if I invite you to my birthday party this year.”

“No, no, no, Fitz, I meant _us_! We…are their best people!” She reached out in the dark to grab his hand again.

He looked over at her, her dark hair clinging to her face. Her hazel eyes shone in the dim light. “Me and you.”

She nodded. “Me and you.”

He moved closer then, leaning over and putting his lips on hers.

 

**_Four Days Earlier – Precinct 99, Brooklyn, New York_ **

Daisy Johnson kicked off her ballet flats and climbed on top of her desk. She cleared her throat and waited for the bustling of the station floor to die down.

“Attention, losers! Listen up!”

She waved her arms at her coworkers typing away at their desks.

“I SAID LISTEN UP!” she grabbed the whistle from around her neck and blew hard. Her colleagues groaned, putting their hands over their ears.

“Jesus, Daisy!” Detective Leo Fitz looked up from the huge stack of files on his desk.

“Daisy, didn’t Coulson confiscate your whistle?” Detective Jemma Simmons rolled her eyes and sipped on the large mug of tea beside her.

Detective Melinda May adjusted the collar on her black leather jacket and walked towards Daisy’s desk, reaching up and pulling at the whistle from around her neck. The plastic cord snapped with a pop.

“Hey! That’s assault. And I’m totally going to sue you, scary lady,” Daisy replied, using her socked foot to toe her pencil cup off her desk.

May chuckled, tossing the whistle into a nearby trash can. “Bring it on.”

Captain Phil Coulson walked out from his office, coffee mug in hand. “Daisy, what is this foolishness? I told you no whistles and no more climbing on your desk. This isn’t recess.”

“But Captain, I was just trying to tell them all about my dance troupe’s show tomorrow night. These wet blankets don’t know real talent when they see it.”

Coulson took Daisy’s hand and helped her hop off her desk. She slipped her shoes back on and sighed.

“Well maybe if you stopped calling them ‘losers’ and ‘wet blankets’ they would actually want to support you in these extra-curricular activities of yours some time,” Coulson replied as he walked back into his office and shut the door.

Daisy rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to her coworkers. “Okay, you—“ she chuckled under her breath—“ _beautiful_ people, it would be super amazing if you could come see my dance troupe FLOORGASM at Shaw’s tomorrow night, we’re doing a track by track rendition of the Spice Girls’ classic debut album, _Spice_. It will definitely be the best night of your lives, so be sure to make it. We go on at 8.”

“…and you are sure to be done by 8:15,” Fitz replied. Simmons rolled her eyes at the desk across from him. Detective Lance Hunter laughed from his nearby chair.

“Sick burn, Leo! You are the MAN!” Hunter added. Fitz gave him a high five.

Daisy glared at him. She walked over to where Hunter and Fitz were sitting. “Oh, I guess Hunter doesn’t like cookies anymore, then?”

Hunter’s face went white. Fitz raised his eyebrow suspiciously at Daisy.

“Uh, well, I mean, Daisy, I uh… yeah I mean, yeah cookies are good… and I mean, I do enjoy them.”

She shoved the FLOORGASM flier in his face. “Glad we are on the same page. I expect you to be there.” She walked off and Fitz stared wide-eyed at his friend.

“Cookies?” he whispered conspiratorially at Hunter.

“Leo—I, I gotta go, sorry, something mysteriously came up…” he ran off in the direction of the bathroom.

Fitz shrugged and walked over to sit on Jemma’s desk. “So, Jemma—what do you think? Daisy and Hunter are hooking up or are Daisy and Hunter _hooking up_?”

She continued to type on her keyboard, only stopping to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “What? Oh Leo, you really shouldn’t gossip about others. It takes away from our work and it’s just… rude.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine. Party pooper.” He grabbed a Jolly Rancher from the bowl on her desk and popped it in his mouth. “Have it your way.”

She sighed, looking across her desk at him. “I’m sorry, Leo, I don’t mean to be so short—it’s just I’m quite behind on all this paperwork and my review with Coulson is coming up on Thursday. I can’t afford to have any blemishes on my record if I want to be Captain someday.”

He nodded. “Come on, Simmons, you know you are the best detective this precinct has ever seen—well besides myself, of course.”

She laughed, tossing a finished file into a plastic box on her desk. “I think the tally board in the conference room says otherwise.”

“Low blow, Jemma. Low blow. You know I’ve been in a rut lately.”

“Yes, we know Leo, you’ve been in a rut because some woman you dissed on Tinder ended up being some sort of voodoo queen with powers to single-handedly destroy your detective career.”

May chuckled from across the precinct. “Don’t forget the one who threw a drink in his face and threatened to castrate him when he told her he didn’t vote in the last presidential election.”

Jemma laughed. “How could I forget that?”

“Why are you laughing, Simmons? You’re a resident alien too. One day you will meet some over-zealous political wing nut who doesn’t appreciate your conservative sensibilities.” Leo pulled a pencil from behind his ear and tossed it into the air, catching it with his opposite hand.

“Oh, come off it, we are not having this discussion again. It’s better than being a Labour supporter or whatever populist nonsense you are supporting this week.”

“Labour? Jemma, I’m Scottish! Are you mental?”

“God! We GET IT! WE GET IT! You are two Brits with a superiority complex!” May shouted from across the room.  

“Honestly, the bickering, it’s like watching Hufflepuff and Gryffindor go at it. And we all know what’s going to happen there.” Daisy chimed in. “I’ve got your back, Jemma. Hufflepuff for life.” She threw up a gang sign. Jemma rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we know what needs to happen. Dirty, dirty, nerd sex.” May chuckled. “Wait, I think I just made myself sick.”

“I was going to say bloodshed, but that works too,” Daisy said.

“God save the Queen!” Hunter walked up to Fitz and smacked him lightly on the back. Fitz narrowed his eyes at him, ignoring his proffered hand.

“Mate, I’m going to need you to do a little bit of research. Wikipedia, maybe?” Fitz replied.

Hunter nodded fiercely. “Wikipedia? On it, Leo!” he ran over to his desk and fired up his computer.

Fitz looked over at Jemma, who couldn’t suppress a giggle. Fitz shrugged and returned to his desk.

 

 

“Listen up, people!” the booming voice of Sargent Alphonso Mackenzie carried across the room. “We have a situation.”

“A _situation_? Sounds serious, boss.” Fitz looked up from his computer, quickly minimizing his game of Solitaire.

“Would I joke about a situation, Fitz? You know I only reserve that word for the really important stuff.”

“Noted.”

Mack looked at the rest of the squad and continued. “Anyway, folks, we’ve just gotten a call that the First Brooklyn Bank has been hit with a credible bomb threat. We need a detective team to go and check it out. Bomb Squad has already been dispatched.”

Fitz jumped up from his seat and ran towards the Sargent, only to be bested by Jemma.

“Curse you and your long legs, Simmons! My long torso has always disappointed me,” Fitz grumbled. Jemma turned around, sticking her tongue out at Leo before turning back to the Sargent.

“Sarge, I am ready!” Jemma’s long brown ponytail bounced in place as she raised her hand in the air excitedly.

“Jemma, you already have a bunch of cases on your plate. I need you here. Besides, Fitz needs a win. It’s been hard for him the last few weeks.”

“THANK you, Sarge,” Fitz replied, turning his attention to the others in the room. “Finally, someone around here with some sympathy for my plight!”

Mack patted Fitz on his shoulder and nodded. “Understood. It’s not your fault that every single woman that you come in contact with wants to eventually kill you – or worse, put some sort of voodoo spell on you.”

“Exactly!” Fitz cried, pumping his fist in the air. May, Daisy, and Simmons laughed from their desks. “Wait.”

“Okay, Fitz, I’m sending you, May, and Hunter. Fitz, you’re taking point on this one,” Mack said. “You leave now.” May, Fitz and Hunter began packing their things and heading towards the elevator.

“Listen, Leo, if there are any women terrorists? Let me do the talking,” May said with a smirk.

“Funny, May. Very funny,” Fitz replied, smashing the button to take them to the lobby.

 

**_2:37 PM – First Brooklyn Bank, Brooklyn, New York_ **

The Bomb Squad was already dispersing when Fitz, May, and Hunter came on the scene.

“You Nine-Nine?” a man in a suit walked over towards them, lowering his sunglasses and shoving them into his front pocket.

“Yeah, we are,” Fitz replied, mimicking the other officer’s actions, missing his shirt pocket and dropping his sunglasses to the pavement. May rolled her eyes as Hunter scurried to Leo’s feet.

“I’ve got them, Leo!” Hunter grabbed them and popped them into Fitz’s hand.

Fitz sighed. “Thanks, buddy. Yeah, we’re Nine-Nine. What’s the situation here?”

The officer shook his head. “Not much, Detective. We’re pretty sure it was a decoy bomb of some sort. Maybe a test run for something bigger.”

“How can you be sure it wasn’t just some punk kids trying to play a joke?” May asked as the Detectives followed the bomb squad officer into the deserted bank.

“Because we found this attached to the device. It could also be a fake, but once we read it, we didn’t want to take any chances. It also promised other ‘real’ attacks coming soon,” the Bomb Squad director handed them some gloves and an evidence bag with a white envelope inside. He handed it to Fitz who pulled out the envelope with a gloved hand.

“We’ll definitely run this for prints—what about the content of the note? Any distinguishing markers or phrases?” Fitz asked. He pulled the paper out of the envelope and May and Hunter moved in for a closer look.

“There’s a symbol at the top—looks like an Octopus or squid or something, in a circle- all red. The letter has no signature – at the bottom it just says ‘HAIL HYDRA’ in all caps,” the director added.

Fitz raised his eyebrows. “It doesn’t sound familiar to me – we should take it back to the station though, get our researchers working on it. Thanks, director.”

“No problem,” he reached out to shake Fitz’s hand.

After interviewing witnesses and securing the perimeter, the detectives got the call to go back to the station.

“Hey guys, is anyone craving sushi now? Octopus? Squid? I’ve been trying to find a good place in the neighborhood. My girlf—“ Hunter began, slapping his hand over his mouth.

“Your girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend, Hunter?” May asked with a slow smile crossing her features.

“Oh, nothing, no it’s not my _girlfriend_ —I meant to say Grandma. Yes, my grandmother is coming to visit from Iowa and she loves sushi! Just want to be prepared. Okay?”

Fitz nodded. “Sure, man, whatever you say.” He and May looked at each other with their eyebrows raised.

“I’m serious!” Hunter protested.

 

**_Later that afternoon – Precinct 99, Brooklyn, New York_ **

“How’s that Hydra research coming, Fitz?” Coulson walked over to Fitz’s desk, where he and May were sorting through a couple of leads from the internet.

“Not great, Captain. A lot of links to some crazy Neo-Nazi websites,” May replied.

“Do you think it’s some type of hate group?”

“Not entirely sure. We’ll know more if we can talk to some of these people,” Fitz added.

Jemma cleared her throat and bounced across the room, a thick stack of paper in her grasp.

“Captain! I know you wanted me to work on the old lady burglary case, but I’ve already closed that and I thought I could help Fitz and May with their research,” Simmons shoved the pile of papers towards Captain Coulson.

“Um, thanks but no thanks, Simmons, May and I have a pretty good handle on it now,” Fitz said.

“Seriously, Jemma, we don’t need your help _all the time_. We can handle it,” May said.

Coulson looked over the printouts in his hand. He nodded silently. “Simmons has some interesting facts in here. Apparently there was a ‘Hydra’ group that attacked New York back in the 1950s. Stopped by some vigilante group called the ‘Captain America’s Avengers’? I don’t know, sounds pretty ridiculous to me.”

May glared at Simmons and rolled her eyes. Simmons frowned. “Sorry, May, I mean—“

“Nah, forget it—you did all the research. You and Fitz take this one. Neo-Nazis creep me out anyway,” May shrugged and went back to her desk.

Coulson looked from Jemma to Fitz. “Are you guys okay partnering up on this? I’m not going to have to come out here periodically and separate you like a couple of kindergarteners?”

Jemma nodded. “Of course, Captain—“

“ _Kindergartners_ —we are total professionals—“ Fitz chimed in.

“—and we will be fine working on this together—“

“—alone, in close quarters, just the two of us—“

Jemma squeaked and looked over at Fitz.

Fitz’s eyes grew large as he grabbed the paperwork from Coulson. “I mean, okay, Simmons, pull up a chair and let’s get started on this research!” he blushed furiously. “Yay, Neo-Nazi hate groups! So much fun!” Coulson rolled his eyes and returned to his office.

When he was out of sight, Jemma smacked Fitz lightly on the shoulder. “Are you okay? You’re all red.”

Fitz smiled widely and nodded.

 

 

(Of course Fitz was okay. He was _always_ okay when Simmons was around.

That was probably because he was madly in love with her.)

 

**_The Next Night – Shaw’s Bar, Brooklyn, New York_ **

“Daisy, when I said I was interested in staff development, this isn’t what I had in mind,” Mack gestured to his reflection in the mirror. The tall, broad-shouldered man was now covered in a red, white, and blue-sequined jumpsuit. The colors combined to make a perfect depiction of the Union Jack.

Daisy came up behind him in a stretchy black mini dress with stiletto pumps to match. She patted him gently on the back. “Come on, Mack, you look HOT. Besides, Nicole couldn’t make it and she is the only black person in FLOORGASM. I made an executive decision as the group leader and mentor. _Someone_ had to be Scary Spice.”

Mack glared at her. “Am I supposed to be offended by that? Scary Spice? The only black one?”

“Hell no! She’s SCARY because she’s so badass that she renders any normal man completely terrified,” Daisy replied, rolling her eyes. She reached over to the table beside her and held up a light brown curly wig.

“NO! Daisy, no. I draw the line at the wig. I’m not wearing that,” Mack grabbed the wig from her hands and tossed it on the ground.

She sighed. “Fine, I don’t mind compromising. I am a fair person.”

“A fair person that wants to put her boss in a glittery pantsuit,” Mack replied.

“You promised you’d help,” she said. “Remember when I spent all those hours at your place helping you assemble that dumb Ikea toy chest for the twins?”

“From what I remember, that was 99% my work and 1% of you pointing at things and sipping on domestic beer.”

“Look, we remember things differently. I was a little buzzed, I’ll admit. But didn’t Cagney and Lacey love it?”

Mack sighed and nodded, a smile crossing his face at the mention of his daughters. “Yeah, they did.”

Daisy squealed and clapped her hands. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! FLOORGASM appreciates your dedication. And our hundreds of screaming fans out there appreciate it too.”

“Hundreds?” Mack raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

“Okay, maybe like tens, it’s still early.”

 

 

Hunter returned to the back booth with four beers balanced precariously in his hands.

“Hunter, _how_ are you doing that?” Fitz asked as Jemma and May gingerly took their beers from his grasp and sat back down. Hunter placed the remaining beer in front of him.

“One of my many hidden talents, Leo. That, and mini-golfing. Did you know I was the Iowa State High School Champion for Mini Golf in 1994? I got a trophy and everything,” Hunter replied.

“Really? That’s pretty impressive, Lance,” Simmons took a sip from her pint.

“Was the trophy made of corn?” May asked with a smirk.

Hunter looked at her and gasped. “How did you know?”

“I’m psychic. Don’t cross me,” she replied.

Hunter nodded and sipped his beer. “So is everyone excited for Daisy’s performance? She texted me earlier and said that there was a special guest.”

Jemma and Fitz looked at each other with wide eyes. May choked on her drink.

“You guys text on a regular basis, man?” Fitz asked.

Hunter’s jaw dropped. “Um, no, I mean, she just knows I’m a fan of performance art – and she knows that I may appreciate the inside information, that’s all. Nothing else.” He chugged half his pint in a single gulp. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a refill.”

When he was safely out of earshot, May reached over the table and grabbed Fitz’s wrist.

“Dude,” she said, holding his gaze.

“Dude, I know,” Fitz nodded.

“Dude, do you think really? Could it be?” May asked.

Jemma frowned. “Could it be what? What’s the story? I never get to hear any of the good gossip.”

“Yeah, because it’s mostly about you and Leo’s lousy dates with other losers,” May replied.

Jemma gasped. “What do you mean by that, Melinda?”

May shrugged. “Nothing really, I mean, most of the station thinks you guys should just stop going on dumb blind dates and just go out with each other. I mean, you’re pretty much perfect for each other.”

Jemma and Fitz looked at each other. Fitz downed the rest of his beer in one sip.

“I mean that’s ridiculous—“ Jemma began, her hands waving furiously.

“—yeah, I mean, first of all we’re partners, and it would be—“ Fitz continued.

“—weird, not to mention distracting to the rest of the team—“

“—and we are both complete professionals who only want—“

“—to solve cases and help people and maybe make Captain one day—“

“—yeah, she has career goals, May, real goals and a relationship would—“

“—possibly get in the way of that, and right now it’s just not—“

May stood up on her side of the booth and moved her hands to cover Fitz and Simmons’ mouths.

“Stop. I can’t take it anymore. Either do each other and get it over with or stop complaining about your love lives in front of me. I’m out. Anyone want a shot?” May waited a beat. Silence. “Okay, I’m taking that as a yes. Fitz, you’re getting a double.”

Jemma and Fitz looked at their beers and sat quietly for a moment.

“Leo—“ she put her hand over his. She did not look up.

Fitz froze. After a beat, he covered her hand with his own. He took a deep breath.

Just then, the lights in the bar flickered off as the spotlights hit the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the women of FLOORGASM!” the announcer’s voice boomed over the microphone.

Fitz and Jemma quickly let go of each other’s hands as Daisy’s dance group ran onto the small stage. “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls blared from the speakers.

Scary Spice reluctantly followed behind the other four. She was definitely not a she.

“Mack?” Fitz cried.

“Sarge?” Jemma added.

May returned with their shots as she looked at her boss on the stage. “Oh man, this is the _best_ night of my life.”

 

 

**_4:23 PM - September 29, Precinct 99, Brooklyn, New York_ **

“Okay, team, listen up!” Coulson’s voice boomed across the station. Mack followed beside him to stand in the middle of the bullpen. Fitz, Simmons, May, and Hunter quickly moved to surround their bosses.

“We’ve gotten another threat from this ‘Hydra’ group,” Mack began, “and we need a team to move right away.”

“What are their demands?” Fitz asked.

Coulson and Mack looked at each other.

“They don’t have any so far. They are claiming to have placed charges strategically located through the subway tunnels in Lower Manhattan,” Coulson replied.

“They claim they will detonate them in ninety minutes if we don’t find the source of the blast,” Mack added.

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Did they give any clues at all?” May asked. “Do they just expect us to go on a wild goose chase?”

“We’ve got forensics on the call now. Voice recognition, GPS tracking, all our resources are on this case. This is priority one,” Mack replied.

“The FBI and Major Crimes are also on the case now. However, I want our expert team on the ground as well—Fitz, Simmons, you will go into the tunnels with the teams and start searching while we wait for more information,” Coulson added.

“Captain, what does this group think will happen when the charges explode?” Simmons asked.

Coulson sighed. “Well, I’m no engineer – but it seems to me that the tunnels will flood, and any smoke would kill the passengers inside. The subway could be incapacitated for the foreseeable future.”

“So the subways are shut down?” Fitz asked.

“Yes, all subways in Lower Manhattan are now offline, and passengers are being diverted to other stations,” said Mack.

“At the height of rush hour – what a pain in the behind!” Hunter piped up.

The rest of the group groaned.

“Really, Hunter? That’s the best you could come up with?” May asked, smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

“What?” Hunter shrugged. “I’m a commuter. I know how difficult it can be to get through Manhattan any time of day, but especially during rush hour. You guys should read my blog.”

Mack put his head in his hands.

“Okay, Fitz, Simmons – there is a car downstairs waiting to take you to the meetup point. May, you will come with Mack, myself, and the bomb squad to search for suspicious activity above Canal Street,” Coulson continued.

“Why Canal Street, boss?” Simmons asked.

“That’s where the call came from,” he replied. “Time to move.”

 

**_6:17 PM – September 29, the New York City Subway System, Manhattan, New York_ **

Fitz and Simmons didn’t know how they got separated from the rest of the group. The subway tunnels were damp, dark, and silent. Fitz used his large flashlight to navigate them around a corner.

“My torch is out, Leo,” Jemma whispered behind him. She grabbed the cuff of his jacket as he covered her protectively.

“It’s okay. Mine’s still working,” he waved his flashlight in front of their faces.

“Okay.”

They were silent as they moved through the tunnels. Eventually they made it to a crossroads. “Where to?” he asked her.

Her lip quivered in fear. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”

He nodded, grabbing her hand quickly. “I know. Me too. But we’re going to figure this out. Let’s go to the right.”

Jemma nodded and gripped his hand tighter as he moved them down a side corridor.

“Look! A door—we should look inside, make sure that there’s nothing going on down there,” Fitz said.

“Oh—okay,” she squeezed his hand as he pushed his way into an unlocked door. Fitz shined his flashlight a few feet in front of them.

“I’m not seeing anything here, Leo,” she said.

Fitz shook his head. “I’m not either.”

They dropped hands and moved further into the room.

They didn’t notice the door slamming closed behind them until it was too late.

 

**_Present Time – September 29 – near Canal Street Station, Manhattan, New York_ **

“ _Attention, we are still missing Brooklyn Nine-Nine Detectives Fitz and Simmons. They were last seen approximately thirty minutes ago, entering one of the southbound tunnels near the Canal Street Station. Communications are disrupted. Please use caution when approaching, over,_ ” the call went over the walkie-talkie on May’s hip.

She lifted the walkie-talkie out of her belt and pressed the button on the side. “Sargent Mackenzie and I are near their last location. We are on the move and will report back with Fitz and Simmons statuses. Over.”

Mack looked at May with concern. “Do you think they could be trapped somewhere?”

May shook her head. “I hope not. Fitz is a big freaking baby in the dark.”

Mack chuckled. “I know that’s right.”

The duo called for their colleagues in the darkness for several minutes, moving through tunnels and sub-tunnels until they came across a door labeled “ _No Entrance_.”

Mack pulled his gun as May used her shoulder to bust down the door.

“BROOKLYN POLICE!” May shouted as they made their way into the room.

There, in a darkened corner, Fitz and Simmons broke away from their embrace, immediately jumping to their feet and throwing their hands into the air.

“Fitz? Simmons?” Mack asked. May surveyed her colleague’s appearance. Fitz’s shirt was unbuttoned and Simmons hair was pulled down from her neat ponytail.

“Sarge! May! Oh, thank God you found us! We were worried you guys had forgotten about us!” Simmons blurted out while quickly putting her hair back into her usual style.

May flashed her light into both of their faces. Fitz quickly maneuvered to put his buttons back into place.

“You forgot one, man,” she added, snickering.

“What?” Fitz looked down at his shirt. “Oh, uh, I, so—“

Mack put his hand to the side of his face. “You okay, Detectives?”

“Perfect, Sarge—“ Jemma began.

“—yeah, never better, so, um, what happened—“ Fitz interjected.

“—did you find the source? Did we stop Hydra?” Jemma continued.

Mack and May looked at each other, shocked.

“Uh, yes, yes, we found them. The perpetrator-- an idiot named Grant Ward-- used his cell phone to call in the bomb threat. Turns out it was just a whole big ruse for attention,” Mack began.

“He said he wanted to be on TMZ. I told him I’d put him on the back of a milk carton when I was through with him. Or at least put him in the hospital,” May added.

“So it’s over?” Fitz asked.

“Yeah. We’ll take you back to the station now. Everyone was looking for you! Unless you guys want us to leave you here, finish your business?” Mack raised his eyebrow.

Jemma coughed and Fitz ran towards the door. “Nope! No, we’d like to leave, Sarge! If that’s okay with you.”

The dark covered the deep blush in her cheeks, and for that, Jemma was thankful.

 

 

**_The Following Week – Precinct 99, Brooklyn, New York_ **

A pile of cash sat on May’s desk. May, Daisy, Hunter, Mack, and Coulson surrounded it, eyeing it with glee.

“Three hundred total,” May announced.

“Or, more appropriately, 196.78 British Pounds,” Hunter chimed in. Daisy raised her eyebrow.

“Did you do that math in your head?” she asked.

“Nah… I have an app for that!” Hunter replied.

“You would,” May replied.

“Stop stalling,” said Mack. “Who’s the winner?”

May took a deep breath and put her finger to her lip.

“Hmm, fifteen plus six, carry the one, divide by eleven, me! I’m the winner!” she grabbed the stack of bills on the desk and stuffed it in her leather jacket.

“Three minutes?” Mack asked incredulously.

“Indeed, Sarge,” May said, returning to her computer and clicking the mouse. A surveillance video popped up, showing Fitz and Simmons talking in the evidence locker.

“Those little British horndogs,” Daisy said. “I’m actually proud of them. What’s happening to me?” She grabbed Hunter’s forearm for a second before breaking away.

“I’m happy for them,” Coulson said.

“That’s sweet, Captain,” Mack replied, smiling.

Coulson sipped his coffee mug before turning towards his office. “If you tell anyone, you’re all fired.”

Mack, May, and Daisy returned to their posts while Hunter remained behind.

“Get it, brother,” he said, tapping his fist to the computer screen.

The grainy black and white image showed Fitz and Simmons locked together-- his lips on hers, an unbreakable smile on her face.

 

 

 

 


End file.
